There is a very good series on TV at the moment dealing with the life and work of David Hockney. Although I admire his work greatly, and I’m enjoying the series, every now and then I can’t avoid making the occasional comparison between his life and work and my own. One difference, of course, is the fact that Hockney works immensely hard. I gather that he gets out of bed in the morning to the slogan, “Begin work immediately!” I’m afraid that I am too fond of breakfast to submit to that regime.
Earlier today I was reflecting on the course of his career, starting at the Bradford College of Art, and going on to further art study in London. The thought wandered through my mind: “What would have happened to me if I had followed my own youthful inclinations, and gone to art college after school, instead of yielding to my father’s insistence that I went to university.” I’m not mired in a slough of regret, because I have had some wonderful opportunities, and I have ended up engaged with art. Naturally, however, I found myself comparing my own life with that of my brother Mike. He did go to art college, later teaching art. His comment to me on one occasion rang very loudly. “You escaped!” Whereas I left my parental home immediately on finishing school, never to return, he went to the local art college in Blackpool, and indeed continued to live at home for several years when he got a job as an illustrator, travelling on the train to Manchester every day.
Of course, “if only” is a very poor, indeed totally fruitless, standard by which to assess a life, because it is impossible to know all of the things that might have happened had that other route been taken. I did indeed “escape”, however, and that has been of enormous value in my life. I’m not going to waste time beating myself up and telling myself that I made the wrong decision. Although it might be a good idea to take a leaf out of Hockney’s book, and adopt something of his work ethic.